


Sacrifice

by Lucifer_Jadezexus373



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifer_Jadezexus373/pseuds/Lucifer_Jadezexus373
Summary: Happy little story from the beginning of their partnership.





	Sacrifice

Clint stood in the middle of the mat as his opponent paced around him, making him feel cornered in an open room. The assassins green eyes were cold and calculating, her torso turned towards him, arms raised protectively. When he struck she deflected the blow casually cocking her head. He used to be nervous when they sparred, when she came at him like a feral cat who seemed to know every single weakness, but now there was a comforting familiarity about it. Now he trusted her implicitly.   
Natasha gave him a small smile, and while it only served to distract Clint for a fraction of a second it was long enough for her to fly at him and knock him to the ground. He sprung up immediately, ready for the barrage of blows she was about to deal out, always quick to take advantage of a situation. They quickly digressed into a rapid back and forth, Natasha on the attack, Clint barely managing to get a couple strikes in. As they were trading hits and flowing effortlessly across the floor in a deadly dance, Clint’s phone rang. Natasha hesitated, and Clint managed to pull her over sideways, pinning her arms and holding her down with a proud grin painted onto his face.  
“Look who won this time,” he gloated.  
She rolled her eyes, letting him keep her down, “You did not win,” she scoffed.  
“You sure, cuz it kinda looks like I won,” the phone was still ringing on a weight bench across the room.  
Natasha couldn't help but smile at him, “Answer your damn phone Clint.”  
“You don’t know who’s calling,” he said, but he was already walking quickly over to answer it.  
Her smile faded as she watched him answer the phone. Natasha quickly inferred that it was Coulson, and her excitement and nervousness sky rocketed. She was almost ashamed of how much she cared, but Clint was making it easier and easier every day. It was starting to feel less like a weakness and more like a strength—caring about anything.  
“No way!” Clint exclaimed, the joy evident in his tone and his smile as he nodded at Natasha. “It’s amazing,” were the next words, followed by, “she’s gonna be so excited,” and if there had been uncertainty left it was all gone.  
Clint ended the call quickly then, looking up at the redhead. “You’re in. We got it.”  
He watched a million things go through her mind before running a hand through her hair. “What now?” she settled on, not sure how to thank him, not able to put what she was feeling into words.  
“We keep training. Wait for an assignment,” he was still smiling so big it made her heart swell.  
Natasha didn’t think she’d ever been so happy in her life. In fact she knew she had never been so happy in her life, which is why it was absolutely impossible to communicate all of her emotions. Especially since she had been taught for so long that emotions were unacceptable.   
“Let’s go back to my room and have a drink,” he suggested.  
Natasha smiled, “Okay,” she agreed. They had been working together for months, and when they weren't training they were usually in Clint’s room and he was showing her his favorite movies or his favorite kind of pizza or some other ridiculous thing. Natasha didn’t even know what to expect now. She knew it would be different than their missions before, which had been limited to fairly safe and simple things where they were part of a team and it was usually her just tagging along with Clint. He had assured her he wasn’t her handler, even when it was how people saw them, but now they were really actually partners and that was something completely new.  
“How many partners have you had?” she asked as they walked back to the room.  
Clint smiled at her, “None. I’ve always been a ‘better on my own’ kinda guy.”  
“Oh really?” Natasha raised her eyebrows.   
“Yeah until I got a crazy redheaded sidekick,” he laughed.  
“Crazy redheaded sidekick?” she repeated incredulously, “I’m really gonna have to beat your ass for that one.”  
Clint laughed, knowing full well that she could easily do exactly that. He used to be so careful with Natasha, so nervous he would set off some trigger or something, and at first he had to be. But he realized eventually that she wasn’t a kicked puppy, and it was more about bringing her out of her shell and letting her know that she could be whoever she wanted to be and feel whatever she wanted to feel. He never looked at her like damaged goods, he saw someone who had been forced into submission, a machine that was created with mind control and cruel conditioning techniques. It was hard as fuck to get her to start opening up, but when he did he was blown away by how incredibly complex the young assassin was. She was funny and sarcastic and blunt, and she had moments of weakness where she was cruel and careless, more out of habit than anything. But it was never Clint’s job to check her or keep her in her place, she did that herself, as she learned right from wrong she caught her mistakes. Of course he did everything he could to teach her, to let her know that being compassionate was good and that caring was a strength not a weakness.   
He was endlessly proud of how far she had come as he watched his new partner open the door to his room, turning back to him with a smile on her face. “What are we drinking,” she said cheerfully.   
“You’re not even old enough to drink,” Clint reminded her as he often did. More to tease her than anything.  
Natasha rolled her eyes, “Which is ridiculous. I’m old enough to drink in Russia,” she offered.  
“Which is irrelevant,” Clint remarked as he rummaged through his fridge. “What do you feel like?” Clint didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but he wanted her to know he was proud.   
Nat shrugged, still not used to being asked what she wanted. “I don’t care.”  
Clint didn’t push her and a few minutes later they were settled on the couch each with a bottle of beer, mostly because it was basically the only kind of alcohol Clint had at the time. They were two beers and forty-five minutes of joking banter in when Clint decided he wanted to go up to the roof. Natasha agreed, grabbing two more bottles as they headed out the door.  
“Of course we’re going to end up on the roof,” Natasha joked with a smile as they opened the door to the cool evening breeze.  
Clint couldn't take his eyes off her as she tiptoed along the raised edge. He knew how far that drop was, having balanced there many times himself, but it was a different kind of adrenaline rush watching her do it. He knew Natasha wouldn’t fall, and it reminded Clint that she was so totally his equal, she was flawed where he was whole and they understood each other’s pain intrinsically.  
“Don’t fall,” Clint called at her jokingly.  
“That's helpful.”  
Clint laughed, his eyes glued to the assassin who was gracefully walking along the edge of the tall SHIELD building. He marveled at the fact that he hadn’t felt so much like himself in a long time. It was terrifying really, because Clint saw how unstable she was more than anyone else. He saw her when she dealt with flashbacks and conditioning and he saw the toll it took on her to overcome that. It was just self defense to remain impersonal, but with her that had been impossible. The only way he was able to bring her in had been by making it personal and now he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  
“What’re you thinking about?” the question interrupted him from his thoughts, and he realized Natasha had been watching him stare.  
“Nothing.”  
The dismissive answer was clearly not enough for Natasha as she hopped off the ledge and sat next to him on the roof. It was strange for her, spending time with Clint. So often she had to stop herself from slipping back into the persona she had been trained to use. It wasn’t that Natasha had trouble talking to people, she was actually very good at it, she just wasn’t necessarily good at talking to people as herself.   
“What’s going on?”   
Clint turned towards her, and he knew that he should be afraid of her. He had seen her file, hell he had seen plenty in person so it was crazy not to be scared. But at some point her green eyes had become all he needed to feel completely at ease. Not to mention the expression she wore, not a smile, but for some reason it made Clint feel like he could tell her anything.   
“I’m happy for you. You deserve this,” he looked over at her smiling softly.  
“You gave me this. You fixed me.”  
Clint shook his head, “I might've helped, but you did it. You got better Nat and no one can do that for you.”  
Natasha stiffened instinctively as Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Love is for children, she reminded herself as she leaned into Clint. Caring about someone is how you end up dead. It was so completely programmed into her brain that Natasha felt like she was fighting against herself. She took a deep breath,They don’t control me anymore. She turned to face Clint, her eyes scanning, desperately trying to read his expression. Natasha didn’t want to mess this up, Clint had been the one person who saw who she was and still wanted her, still thought she deserved a second chance.   
Clint never knew what to expect from Natasha, but it still came as a surprise when she kissed him. Her hand was cold on his cheek, the wind blowing her hair away from her face. Clint tightened his grip on her shoulder, not pulling her closer just holding her in place. Electricity coursed through him, it almost didn’t feel real.   
He let her direct the situation, deepening the kiss when she swung a leg over his lap so she was kneeling above him. Natasha’s hands ran through his short blonde hair, pulling gently to tilt his head back. After a moment she broke the kiss. Keeping her eyes closed she pressed her forehead to his, breathing deeply.   
“Nat?” he whispered, bringing a hand up to her face as he tried to get his brain to function.  
She looked at him cautiously, fighting to stay present in the moment. Natasha was terrified by how much she wanted him. “Thank you.”  
“What was that for?” Clint asked as soon as he could form words.  
She shrugged, “Nothing…Everything?”   
It was so unsure, so fragile, and it reminded Clint how much she still had to figure out. Natasha had come so far from the girl he met, but she had a long way to go and a relationship was the last thing she needed to try to deal with, not to mention it was against S.H.I.E.L.D. policy.  
“Okay,” he said simply, turning her around so she sat between his legs, her shoulders pressed against his chest. Clint knew she didn’t like to feel trapped, so he placed a tentative hand on her waist.   
They sat like that for a while, neither one bothered by the quiet. Natasha matched his breathing and relaxed, finding a special sort of freedom in being able to clear her mind. He kept her going, he showed her right from wrong, and he did it all selflessly. It was kindness to an extent Natasha wouldn’t have believed if she didn’t experience it herself. He loved her until she lowered her walls and let him in, never once asking for more than she offered. Natasha knew she would spend the rest of her life looking for an opportunity to repay him, to show him how deeply he had taught her to love, how completely he had taught her to commit, and how selflessly he had taught her to sacrifice.


End file.
